


Power & Control

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse of Power, Angst, Bloodplay, But it wasnt, Come Marking, Come as Lube, Dark Magic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub Undertones, Face Slapping, Facials, Gangbang, Gellert Grindelwald Being an Asshole, Gellert Grindelwald Never Impersonated Percival Graves, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Imperiused Sex, Inspired By Tumblr, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Obscurus (Harry Potter), One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Original Character(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Torture, Spanking, Taking Turns, Unhappy Ending, but not all at once like they do to credence, but not meant to be like this im sure, everyone works for grindelwald, garbage fire, graves shushing during sex, grindelwald shushing, grindelwald squad, hell is empty and the devil is me, mads!grindelwald, seven is a magical number, sometimes everyone ends up fucking grindelwald, sort of, this feels like a kinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9443228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Percival had known he’d fucked up and made a mistake joining Grindelwald, but never before the moment when he realized he’d put Credence in more danger than he’d been in with the anti-wizarding No-Maj’s.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snarry_splitpea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarry_splitpea/gifts), [sportivetricks (tamlane)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/gifts).



> like... there is no explanation or excuse but this happened.  
> since they go one at a time is it really a gangbang? IDK. 
> 
> somewhat inspired by this graphic:  
> http://thegaypumpingthroughyourveins.tumblr.com/post/155638053335

Six months ago when Percival Graves had walked into his office to find his boss sitting in his chair in New York, in the heart of MACUSA, brazenly ignoring all the wanted posters with his visage and name plastered over them in the halls, he had no idea how life changing that moment would be.

For the better, for the greater good, always.

The man had smiled and leaned back in his chair, silently casting a muffling spell and closing the door behind Percival, before speaking as he did, always that low soothing murmur that could be called just short of deadly pillow talk.

"Graves, I have a new assignment for you."

He cocked a brow at the man who was now rearranging his desktop.

"I'm not going to be shadowing the President any longer?"

He flicked his fingers and Percival saw the outline of a silvery shape, a patronus. They always moved too fast to be seen, and there was a good chance Grindelwald never wanted it to be fully corporeal to risk being recognized.

"No. I have sent William to do this. Your current objective is to find the obscurus lurking in the city. Don’t argue with me about impossible _. I_ haven’t been the one destroying buildings that are abandoned. Scamander tells me only one thing can do that. It'll be a child. They always are."

Grindelwald spoke like he was the expert, but Percival knew he was only parroting Newt's words.

"Indeed. So you want to recruit a child? Is that wise?"

Grindelwald gave him a half smile,

"Graves. He's got more power than both of us combined, and you know how formidable we are. Find the child, and bring him to me. You can be persuasive I know. This child is used to neglect and maltreatment, so any kindness will lure it in. We need it alive, and we need it soon. Scamander says they usually die after a certain age."

 Percival nodded.

"Of course. Any idea where to start looking?"

 It wasn’t a flippant comment, Grindelwald had been known to have visions and claimed to be of a seer lineage.

"The second salemers causing trouble outside or at the bank. That’s where you'll find a lead. Be good now and bring me the child, and we can begin to make things right."

Grindelwald left Percival’s chair and walked past him, so close his hand grazed past his own, and there was a spark upon contact.

The man smirked and withdrew his wand, before elegantly turning and disapparating. Percival let out a breath he didn’t know he'd been holding.

Every time he saw the elder wand in use it made him want it more, but he couldn't. That would be treason. He blinked and then swiftly walked to his desk. He had work to do.

Orders to follow.

*

Credence saw Mister Graves from across the street, and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too widely. Modesty might see and tell ma.

The man stared back, and then was crossing over, not paying any mind or attention to the cars as they moved around him and before he knew it, the man was right in front of him.

“Credence, are you well today?”

He nodded at once, and the man was already walking him towards the alley, away from the hustle and bustle of the street, his hand burning against Credence’s back.

“I have something I need you to do for me.”

“Of course Mister Graves sir, anything.”

The man smiled tightly at him, and nodded,

“It’s a child, who you may encounter when you have orphans at dinner, or when they come to your meetings.”

Credence was confused,

“You want me to look for a missing child?”

“Not exactly. It’s a child with magical ancestry, a very powerful magic is inside of them, and it’s been the cause of recent, uh, incidents around the city.”

Credence blinked, and tried to keep from thinking about how well those things coincided with his blackouts.

The papers had been saying it was a gas leak, but five times in a row? Unlikely.

“Credence… do you know something about this?”

His eyes snapped back to the man, seeing concern and curiosity in his dark eyes. There was still a hand on his back, shifted to his shoulder now, but to what end, he didn’t know.

“Yes, Mister Graves, I mean, I’ve seen what the papers have been saying.”

“The no-maj papers surely haven’t a clue. How did you know it had been five times?”

Credence flinched away,

“Are you reading my thoughts?”

The man sighed,

“I apologize. It’s habit in my line of work, to ensure I always seek the truth. I shouldn’t have done that. Would you mind if I scanned you? I saw something unusual…”

Credence gulped, and then nodded, stepping close again, and the man’s hand hovered over his face, before making contact with his cheek. The warmth and gentleness of the touch made him lean against it, chasing the feeling.

It felt like he was afire wherever the man’s hand moved, even over his thin clothing.

A few moments of silence passed, and Mister Graves moved back to look at him, both hands cupping his face now, a brilliant smile on his face, tinged only with a hint of sadness.

“Credence, dear boy, it’s you. _You’re_ the obscurus.”

He didn’t know what that meant.

“I’m a what?”

Mister Graves, seemingly caught up in a moment of epiphany, swooped forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, shocking him.

“You’re the magical creature I’ve been sent to find. Will you come with me?”

Credence was already nodding, eager to go anywhere, to spend more time with the man, and he felt an arm slide around him, pulling him unnervingly close, so much that he found himself overwhelmed by Mister Graves’ cologne and then darkness swallowed them both.

*

Caution was the last thing on Percival’s mind as he apparated them both to his home, intent on summoning Grindelwald there as soon as the boy had gotten a moment to recover, still wheezing and on his knees on the carpet.

“It’s okay if you think you’ll be sick. Side along Apparation isn’t always pleasant.”

“N-no, Mister Graves, I’m fine.”

Percival eyed the boy, who climbed to his feet, shakily, aided by a hand or two on the nearest piece of furniture.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Credence nodded, looking a bit paler than normal, if possible.

Percival flicked his wand at the kitchen and summoned two glasses with water, and put them both in front of the boy.

“Drink as much as you like. I’ll be right back.”

He went to his bedroom and shut the door, taking a moment to compose himself before he reached into his pocket to thumb the pendant Grindelwald had given him.

“I found the child. It’s not exactly that.”

He stepped back out into the living room just a few seconds before the man apparated in.

“Graves. You impress me. Barely three hours later and you have completed your task? Remind me to owl Theseus and tell him you’re pulling ahead.”

Percival smiled tightly, and nodded, before moving over to clap Credence on a shoulder,

“Credence, this is my friend, Mister Grindelwald. He’s going to help you with your magic.”

The boy shrunk backwards slightly, but Grindelwald wasn’t stupid, he’d been trained and told things by Newt that clearly aided in his approach.

He kneeled before the boy, and held out a hand, speaking low and soft, a touch more caring infused into his voice,

“Credence, is it? I’m honored to meet you. I hope you’ll consider allowing me to make you the best you can be.”

The boy hesitated only a moment, before reaching out to take Grindelwald’s hand, which he shook once, and then flipped over to reveal the boy’s palm, covered in a myriad of red scars.

“Good Merlin. What’s this?”

Grindelwald’s eyes flickered to Percival and back down for a moment, but Credence answered shakily,

“My ma sir, she beats me. Says it will help get rid of the evil inside of me.”

Something hardened in Grindelwald’s gaze, and Percival suspected the woman had just been tried and found guilty in his mind.

“Well, well, now, we can’t have that. Dear boy, may I heal this?”

Credence nodded.

Percival tried to ignore the stab of jealousy in his gut as Grindelwald dragged two fingers across the boy’s palm and the skin mended until it was as unblemished as the back of his hand.

Percival had done that for him a few times, during routine surveillance when the boy had first approached him, merely trying to hand him a flier and expose on the cause.

It had been when he’d first realized how right Grindelwald had been about how Rappaport’s law held them back, and didn’t really protect them. If it meant no-maj’s could be hurt by their own families, it was wrong.

Credence’s loud gasp brought him back to the present, and Percival realized the man had healed his other hand as well.

“Thank you sir.”

“Of course my boy. I always care for my own. That’s what you are now. You’re my greatest discovery. With you, we cannot be defeated.”

“I’m nothing special… I don’t know how I can possibly help you sir.”

Grindelwald didn’t miss the way the boy looked to Percival for help, and he merely crossed over to the man’s side.

“He’s had a blackout every time he’s used his power. He needs help controlling it.”

Grindelwald nodded,

“Certainly. It’s all new to him. Scamander should be more than able to do that. I’ll get him to come over and have a session with the boy. You’d better get back to work now Graves. You’ll be missed. Tell William I said hello.”

The man winked at him, before taking the boy’s hand again, and disapparating on the spot.

Percival saw Credence watching him just before he twisted into nothingness.

*

Credence wasn’t sure what to think, but he knew for certain that he didn’t ever want to wake up from the wonderful dream that his life had become in an incredible instant.

The man with the long foreign name and quiet voice had brought him to a stunningly furnished home; called it his headquarters, and told him it was outside the city. He’d been guided to a room that was all his, the man said, and before he left him alone with all the finery, he’d put his hand to Credence’s head, and with a tingling feeling on his scalp, murmured to him,

“That’s better. Now you’re on your way to your full potential.”

Credence had almost run to the nearest mirror the second the man left, and gasped aloud at the sight of himself.

His hair was no longer in the unflattering and ugly bowl cut, it was so long it kissed the tops of his shoulders, and curled against his neck and chin in the front.

He ran a hand through it and marveled at how soft it felt, and with a flush, he realized how it made him look, far from manly and proper.

The closet was full of rich clothing, and he let his fingers drag over the hanging things, coats and shirts and pants that were so nice he couldn’t even begin to imagine how much they’d cost.

What caught his eye was a shirt and matching jacket that appeared so real, as if they’d been plucked right off the creature they reminded him of. A beast that might have been found in the bible, and would have been right at home in the forest of the Garden of Eden.

It was a whole new world he was stepping into, so he shed off his old clothing like a skin, like the snake he’d taken the offering of, and shivered before approaching the racks.

When he emerged from the closet and looked in a mirror again, he didn’t look like himself at all, he looked like someone who he might have stared at a moment too long in the street.

Someone his ma would have called ‘ _ungodly_ ’ and blessed with wickedness.

A knock sounded on the door, startling him from his thoughts, and he hurried to open it, finding a man with reddish wild hair, and an oversized blue coat shrouding most of his form.

“Hello.”

“Credence is it? I’m Newt Scamander. Grindelwald sent me to help you get, uh, acquainted with your powers. At least as much as I can this afternoon.”

The man, Newt, smiled briefly, before hastening past Credence, who stood rather frozen at the door.

“Are you sure you can do that? I mean, I don’t even know how to access it…”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Even after a few moments with Newt trying to get him to do the simplest thing, he said, which was to light the cold fireplace in the center of the room, Credence started to feel useless, and rather hopeless again.

“Not to worry. It’ll take some getting used to, the uh, not having to bottle up energy and then just explode it. Here you’re safe; you won’t be hurt for _displaying_ your powers.”

Newt seemed a bit stuck on something, and Credence wasn’t sure what to ask, but the years of being beaten for a tiny amount of curiosity had taught him different.

“I’m very sorry.”

“It’s quite all right. I should have told Gellert not to expect miracles in the first day. You probably just need a good night’s sleep. I’ll leave you be. Dinner will be brought up at eight.”

“Will I be eating alone?”

Newt shook his head,

“I believe Gellert will most likely come see you, ensure you’re settled in properly. He did with _all_ of us.”

Another smile that wasn’t quite warm quirked over the redhead’s mouth, and Credence watched as he left with a cheery wave and a swish of navy wool.

Credence sat in front of the dark fireplace, trying his best to concentrate and get it to light, but no luck, and by the time his dinner had arrived, he felt extremely disheartened.

“Hello my boy, how are you feeling?”

It was the man, and he hadn’t even knocked. Credence felt goose bumps erupt over his skin as he saw Mister Grindelwald come into view, holding a tray with something that smelled delicious, and he merely stared at him, as if drinking in his changed appearance.

“Good, sir. Thank you.”

“You look incredible. So beautiful. Graves was right. You have so much potential, even beyond your power.”

The compliments made him squirm, and he wanted to deny them all, but his throat felt as if it wanted to close up, and the closer the man got, the more his skin prickled with forbidden heat.

“You don’t believe me do you?”

Credence’s eyes widened and he looked right into the man’s eyes to find him smiling, something like a dangerous edge to it.

“No sir, I mean yes, I’m sorry sir.”

“Shh-hh now. No need for that. You may call me Gellert if you wish. Formality among my brothers is unnecessary.”

Credence gulped, and nodded,

“Thank you. Gellert.”

“Very good.”

The man seemed to purr at him, before setting the tray of food down, still steaming gently, he took a seat beside Credence, so close it made him wonder why he didn’t take advantage of the other space.

His knee bumped against Credence’s and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

He’d never been so close to another man, a man so handsome and strong looking, besides Mister Graves. It had been an accident, tripping and falling into him, during one of the days he’d been out on the streets, trying desperately to get rid of all his pamphlets, lest he get another beating.

“Oh my boy, you don’t have to fear that sort of pointless pain ever again.”

The man’s hand smoothed over his cheek, and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, as Credence blinked and tried to smile.

“Are you reading my mind too?”

The man, Gellert, smiled slightly,

“It’s not my forte. That’s Graves. I can see glimpses of the future, and I see you at my side, with Graves and William and Theseus and the others. We’ll be victorious, and free the world. Would you like that?”

Gellert’s hand shifted, so that a thumb was rubbing against Credence’s bottom lip, and he gulped, before nodding.

“Good. Tell me Credence, have you ever had anyone see you for what you really are? The most magical thing of all?”

He was already shaking his head, but the hand on his chin tightened, forcing him still. He couldn’t help feeling like the way Gellert used his name was intentional, as if it was for power, control.

“Believe me. You are. The others know not to disturb what is clearly mine, so you have no need to fear them attempting to steal your essence, or try and use you.”

Credence was more than confused, and wanted to ask exactly what he was talking about, but he didn’t know the right words to use.

“Do you like your room?”

Credence nodded, jarred by the sudden change of topic, and then he started as Gellert’s hand moved again, fingers trailing down his neck, pushing aside the silk of the shirts collar so that it was almost sliding off his shoulder.

He tried to remain perfectly still, as the man eyed his bared neck, and something in his eyes darkened.

“Merlin, you look good enough to eat. I’m amazed Graves had the self control to resist. He’s not above breaking or bending laws, if I ask him to.”

“Resist what?”

He couldn’t help it; he was dying, as every stray touch fanned the flame that Mister Graves had unintentionally started. Any sort of contact that wasn’t to induce pain was good, and he was drowning in it, the sensations threatening to drag him under.

“Having you. Any part. You’re just so ripe, and willing, aren’t you, my boy?”

Credence didn’t know but he was starting to suspect, so he just nodded.

“You won’t mind if we skip dinner and go right to dessert then, will you?”

Credence shook his head. He was used to skipping meals.

“Good.”

The man’s voice was low, a deadly caress and Credence barely noticed when he was plucked up off the couch into his strong arms, and carried away, towards the bedroom.

*

When Percival was summoned a day later to Grindelwalds’ headquarters, he wondered how he’d forgotten about the meeting. He’d barely gotten through his work, distracted at every turn, thinking about Credence being left alone with the man, and how easily the man tended to absorb pretty things all in the name of his thirst for power.

Landing inside the atrium, the first thing he saw was a blazing fireplace and a familiar outline standing beside it.

“Theseus, what brings you here?”

The man turned to him with a fond smile,

“Percy. You know I don’t miss a mandatory meeting, damn the time difference.”

They embraced, briefly, and Percival swore he could see a few new lines on the man’s face. The war had prematurely aged them all. It gave him his silver hair and Theseus more sleepless nights than he could count. He knew, because he’d been there for some of them.

Those had been different days, and long nights, before the greatest dark wizard of their time had recruited them both.

They all had different stories, some mild excuses, for why they’d joined. Percival kept telling himself it was for the betterment of America, and eventually the whole world. Theseus claimed it was only to keep an eye on his little brother, who’d gotten in a bad way after being caught smuggling illegal creatures out of certain countries and back into more.

Grindelwald had saved them all, in a way.

But he’d also condemned them to a life of glittering service.

Out of one army and back in another.

The only person that Percival knew to simply like serving to serve the cause was William Tobias, a potion master of lethal concoctions.

Grindelwald had found him at Hogwarts, plucked him away the second he graduated, and told him to use his skills for something higher than money and mild success.

Oh he still made money, but it was for things that would have made even the hardest Slytherin shiver. The next target was the president of course, and Percival couldn’t help feeling a bit bad for her. Seraphina had been a close friend in Ilvermorny, but she’d gotten worse with time, blinded by her loyalty to MACUSA, to the letter of the law, she couldn’t understand how she was holding back progress.

So she had to be taken care of.

He’d accept the assignment originally in the hopes of finding a way to reason with her, to make it so she wouldn’t have to be a target at all, but she wouldn’t bend, even a little.

She was stubborn as he was but for all the wrong reasons.

“Newt tells me Gellert caught an obscurus, can you imagine? I haven’t heard of a living one in my entire life. Newt’s just done a lot of reading on it. Supposedly met one when he went to the Sudan, but something tells me he was just exaggerating for Gellert. He’s a bit of a show off, though he’d never admit it.”

Theseus winked at him, but Percival felt his blood go cold.

The man was lying about where and how he’d gotten Credence in the first place? Why? Did he not want to give Percival credit?

They continued on to the usual meeting room, actually the dining room of the magnificent home Grindelwald called his ‘headquarters’ and found everyone else already waiting, the only notable absence the man himself, and Credence.

Percival tried to keep from nervously tapping the table with his hands, and instead jammed them together in his lap, carefully putting up his mental shields.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust anyone else, even Theseus, but well, he _didn’t_ trust them.

Especially not the dark haired and beady eyed man he knew was one of Grindelwald’s early recruits, and a close friend to a rumored werewolf.

Percival liked to think he was open minded, but something about _those_ creatures made him uneasy. Perhaps it was just the way they seemed to run around the darkness and had little care for who they hurt, no-maj or wizard.

The double doors to the room flew open suddenly, with a loud crash that only made Percival roll his eyes, always a flair for the dramatic, Grindelwald.

What made him sit up and pay attention was the solemn faced figure trailing behind him.

Pink cheeked and long haired, Credence looked entirely different. Healthy, for sure, and dressed in clothing that was new, flashy, and almost inappropriate.

Percival couldn’t help thinking there was something terribly wrong.

“My brothers, welcome. It’s been far too long since we have all been reunited, but tonight, on the eve of our triumph, I ask you to greet the heart of it all, our secret weapon that will ensure an end to the reign of muggles and no-maj’s. A creature that _they_ created, by pure ignorance and accident. A two decades old obscurus, contained inside a truly bewitching body.”

Percival’s skin was crawling, as he watched Credence step forward, moving a bit sluggish, almost as if… no. He wouldn’t dare…

“Say hello to everyone, my boy.”

Credence licked his lips, swallowed and then smiled, dreamily, before doing as he was bade.

“Hello.”

His cheeks flushed further, and he dropped his gaze almost immediately as the entire rooms’ attention landed on him.

“Merlin’s beard, where did you find him Gellert?”

William piped up first, and Grindelwald smiled, like the cat who’d gotten the canary, dipped in cream,

“Will, you know I can’t tell you that. You might try and go hunt for one yourself.”

His voice was low, teasing, but Percival could almost taste the edge to it.

Threatening, chastening, and above all, warning.

He might be disillusioned to think he was the man’s favorite, but William was a close second, due to how he could make potions to control almost anyone and anything.

He was particularly skilled at controlled class C substances, like Veritaserum, and Amortentia.

Grindelwald was of the opinion that torture only got one so far, and people could be more easily manipulated by the opposite, by a kindness in the midst of a horrific situation.

With a start, Percival realized that had to have been the reasoning behind obtaining Credence. Plucked from the abusive home, and dropped into one of lavish gifts and seeming safety, until he was pliable and obedient.

Clearly, from the fact he had to use the Imperius Curse on the boy, things weren’t going _exactly_ to plan, and it only made Percival more furious.

The longer he watched Credence, the more ill he felt. He could see the hint of a dark shadow, a bruise, on the boy’s neck, peeking out from behind the leopard print collar of his silk shirt.

It wasn’t from being hit.

It hadn’t been there when he’d left the mansion last, either.

“Is he going to demonstrate his powers for us?”

Theseus asked, secretly voicing Percival’s own thought, which was namely, what was the point of the meeting in the first place?

Grindelwald smirked, and then came over to the boy’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing somewhat possessively,

“No, quite the opposite. Credence is going to show you his immense control he has over his magic. It seems to work better for him that way. Newt has tried many times to ease it out of him, to get him to perform the simplest of tasks, but it appears, all for naught. So to continue the vein of his typical use of magic, we will encourage him to let it out, and then yes, you will see how spectacular it truly is.”

Percival’s throat was tight, but he managed to get out the words anyway,

“How will _we_ do that? How can we encourage him?”

William was snickering, and Theseus actually threw him a look, but it hardly made him quiet down, before Grindelwald spoke.

“Why Graves, I should think you know. The boy is to be used. Until he breaks.”

*

From somewhere in the back of his mind, Credence could still feel everything, and see clearly, as he was given the order to follow Gellert to a spacious dining hall, hours after having woken from the long night he’d spent with the man. But for the haze that seemed to make everything slightly shinier than it should have been, as if sunlight was coloring his vision.

The night before, he had been left somewhat untouched, except in the manner of heavy kissing and considerable marking on his skin, as the man had said he wouldn’t be taken completely, not then, at least.

Even by the time Credence had finally gotten to eat and drink, the food had been unmatched by anything he’d ever had, and the man had watched him the entire time, asking the occasional question about how he felt, if he liked it.

He’d nodded and said yes. Of course. Anything that wasn’t gruel or simply hot water was heavenly.

The tingling over his skin was normal too, he suspected. Just the reaction from so much attention and skirting the edges of carnal sin.

Once inside the room, facing a table of at least a half dozen other men, he was a bit nervous, unsure he could properly greet them, and even when he was told he wouldn’t need to show off his power, he still felt like a bug trapped under a glass.

He caught Mister Graves’ eye, and saw something very different in his gaze. Not the usually fondness or even concern.

He didn’t know how to describe it, until he felt his own arms moving, and he couldn’t recall having told them to.

His hands were unbuttoning his shirt and then he was shrugging it off, along with his jacket, until he was standing in front of the table, naked from the waist up.

But he wasn’t feeling any shame, or shivering from the cold, he just stood there.

He didn’t jump when Gellert’s hand caressed over his bare shoulder, and fingers dug into his collarbone, in what should have been a painful manner.

His jaw dropped and no sound came out, as the man’s other hand grasped his chin, and his thumb pressed inside his mouth, rubbing over the edge of his teeth and tongue.

“Such a good boy. Aren’t you Credence?”

He nodded, and the man’s voice seemed distant, as if from under a few feet of water.

Like when he sometimes dipped below the surface when he took a bath.

No more words left the man’s mouth, but he felt the urge to lean over, placing both hands flat on the table, until he was just staring down at the mahogany surface, a hand now trailing down over the length of his spine.

“Who wants to go first?”

“I will.”

“Oh no, I don’t think so Graves. You can go last.”

Credence could not speak, but he wished he could, to say that of course, if Mister Graves wanted to do anything like what Gellert had done to him, he could.

He would love it.

“William, why don’t you come here, let me see your pretty cock before you put it to good use.”

“Gellert, you’re such a softie.”

Credence blinked, and his eyes stung.

What was he talking about?

He could move his head, so he did, turning to look back, and he nearly dropped his eyes again. Gellert and the man he called William were kissing, and there was more than a little rough touching involved.

He could feel that his fever had only grown, and it had to be why taking off his clothing hadn’t made him cold. He didn’t move when there was a hand on him again, fingers slipping under the waistband of his pants, and with a swift tug and tear they were gone.

Pain arced over his backside, and he realized he’d been hit.

“Oh now that is just perfect. Do it again.”

“Delighted to.”

Another slap that would have normally made him cry out, question why, why was Gellert letting him be hurt, but he couldn’t speak.

“I gave him a bit of that new potion you dreamed up. It’s working wonderful so far. The compatibility to Imperius is ideal.”

“I know, isn’t it?”

Credence couldn’t see what was happening now, only the table, through a veil of tears that he couldn’t blink away.

His legs opened without his permission, as a hand palmed over his groin and sent a wave of heat down his spine.

He was hard, painfully so, and had been for at least a day, but he was used to ignoring things like that. When Gellert had kissed him, and bit on his neck, he’d put his hand to Credence and told him no one was allowed to make him come, not even himself.

He didn’t know why it mattered, as he couldn’t possibly touch himself, he wouldn’t, it was wrong and would be so disrespectful to his new host and home so he’d nodded and agreed of course.

“Go on. Touch him.”

“But there’s no…”

“Will. You have to be the first, so do it. Thank me for the privilege later.”

The tone of Gellert’s voice made Credence shiver, or it would have, if he could.

Instead, he was screaming silently in his mind as the hand moved up from his groin to his backside and between his cheeks, the tight ring of muscle unwilling to accept the intrusion of even one finger, without severe resistance.

“Why isn’t it working?”

“He’s fighting it. Don’t worry, the potion will kick in…”

The pain didn’t stop, but Credence leaned forward and his legs opened wider, as his body allowed more, even if he didn’t want it.

“Ohhh, he’s so tight. It’s going to feel amazing.”

The man seemed to be addressing the rest of the group, as if it was an interesting fact they should be taking notes on.

Credence could feel the table biting into his cheek, making his face hurt, even as he was delved into by another finger, scissoring with the first, and his legs weren’t shaking yet, but beginning to go numb.

“Get a move on Will. He’s going to need to be spread on the table to prevent nerve damage.”

“Of course Gellert. Forgive me.”

“Always.”

The fingers were gone, only to be replaced with a blunt and wider object, and Credence knew instinctively it had to be the man’s cock, if only because it was slippery, a bit, and he squeezed his eyes shut, the only rebellion he could manage, though there was a puddle of tears forming on the wood beneath his face.

There was a hand grasping at his hip, and another fisting his hair, yanking him up from the table now, and he could open his eyes and see everyone staring at him as William moved in and out of him, almost numb now, his legs quaking against the curse.

Mister Graves was definitively not looking at his face, gaze locked somewhere around his navel, and he didn’t even have to think to know what he was probably caught on.

He was still hard, and he couldn’t come, ever. Not until Gellert said he could.

The man behind him stilled, and the hand on his hip drew blood from the nails against his skin, before he was falling forward, landing perfectly on his palms again, staring at the wood.

“Good. Now he’ll be ready for the next one.”

“Tell me about it. He’s gorgeous. Promise you’ll be keeping him around?”

Gellert sounded a bit smug,

“Of course Will. You don’t just use and throw away a creature like this.”

No sound met his ears but for them kissing again, and Credence watched as another man stood up and moved over to the end of the table, but before anyone else touched him, his body was shifting, crawling up onto the table, his legs preparing to give out, as he laid down on his back, chest heaving with an unconscious need to breathe that he wasn’t in control of.

He could feel wetness seeping out and sliding down his thighs, but now he was just staring at the ceiling, adorned in gold and silver swirls of mindless shapes, before a strong hand gripped each of his thighs and tugged him back to the edge of the table.

“That’s better. Make him look at me.”

Gellert didn’t even reply, and Credence was forced to wrench his gaze away from the comforting and mundane images to lock eyes on the man in front of him.

Close cropped dark hair and eyes that seemed to bore into him, along with a wicked smile that would have made his skin crawl.

“Good boy. You’re gonna take my cock until I’m tired of fucking you, and then I’m going to make a mess of you. I can’t decide where I want to come... Gellert, what do you think?”

“That’s a plan if I ever heard one.” Gellert drawled, “In fact, no one else can come inside of him, only on him.”

Credence swallowed and nodded, being made to look eager at the prospect, and the hands on his thighs tightened as the man pushed his cock inside of his sore hole.

It wasn’t as bad as the first time, aided somewhat by the slickness of the come that was still leaking out and making him feel incredibly dirty.

“You’re so pretty, too pretty. Gellert, can I hit his face?”

Credence thought he could hear someone jumping to their feet, and he half hoped it was Mister Graves, but he saw Gellert nodding from behind the man on him,

“Certainly. I can always heal him later.”

That was all the warning he got before a hand left his thigh and jerked his head to the right from the force of the hit. It bent the curse controlling him.

“Oh yes, that’s much better. You’re better with a bit of color on you.”

Never mind the fact his entire body was still flushed from his perpetually aroused state, he supposed that wasn’t enough for this man.

He was suddenly frightened, what if the next man asked to cut him, to spill crimson and add further color?

Would Gellert let them do that?

The man was reading his mind, inside his head, thanks to the curse, most likely.

“Sweet boy, I would let them fuck you until the entire house was demolished from your power. That’s how much I want you to be free, don’t you understand?”

Credence didn’t, all he knew was that Gellert clearly only wanted one thing, his power. He didn’t care about _him_ , like Mister Graves had seemed to.

It made his eyes sting again, but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop from seeing as the man in front of him neared the end, the cruel dark eyes finally leaving his face as he threw his head back, and pulled out with a rough jerk of his hips, before putting a hand to his cock and spending himself on Credence’s stomach in wet ropes of white, contrasting with his full body blush.

“Perfect. He’s fucking perfect Gellert.”

“I know.”

The man redid his pants and walked away with a final smirk thrown Credence’s way, and he just blinked, feeling more tears slide down his cheeks.

“Who’s next?”

A man with light blonde hair was stepping up to him now, sliding in between his legs with a kinder smile than the previous one.

“How good is he with his mouth Gellert?”

“Oh I don’t know. I wanted him fresh for my brothers. Go on, give it a try.”

“Kneel.”

Credence did as he was commanded, shifting off the table to his knees in front of the man, hands reaching up to undo his pants, mouthing at the slowly hardening cock with only excitement that the curse infused him with.

There was a hand in his hair, gentle at first, before it was pressing him forward, urging him to take more than he thought he could, but his throat relaxed forcibly, and he swallowed around the length of the man’s cock.

“Oh Merlin, that’s incredible. Where can I get some of that shit Will made you? I’m gonna need it.”

“It’s not the potion making him do so well Theseus, it’s the Imperius, and he’s never experienced anything like it. He’s free to be himself. A pretty little whore.”

“He’s got incredible form.”

A third voice, Newt’s, Credence vaguely noted, still distracted greatly by the task he was currently performing, while somewhat grateful for the chance to be sitting, almost.

The cold wetness on his stomach was running down over his thighs, tickling his skin, and he involuntarily jerked against the man, ripping a gasp from his throat.

“Do that again.”

The man pulled almost all the way out and shoved back inside his throat, seemingly pleased by the smooth movement and the slickness of Credence’s saliva, and he hoped he was close.

He was ready for it to be over, but he knew that at least three more remained.

Unless Gellert didn’t plan to take a turn.

“Oh sweet boy, you know I will.”

The man’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he wished he could close his eyes, but the hand in his hair kept him looking up, and with some murmured praises, he was pulling back, and painting Credence’s mouth, chin and neck with his come.

“Ugh, Gellert you spoil us.”

“I know. Run along. Your brother looks awfully ready for his turn.”

Credence got to his feet, and got back on the table, but waited, sitting calmly as could be, although his hands burned, itching to touch his face, to wipe away the mess that he knew he looked.

But Gellert appeared delighted, and when Newt came to stand in front of him, he swore there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

“Credence, you’re brilliant, you know that?”

Pretty words didn’t really help him much at that point, but he supposed it was what the redhead thought would be a comfort.

Gellert made him nod, and then smile.

His lips felt slick, and Newt was reaching up, pressing a finger along the line of his jaw and then dipping it into his mouth, and he could taste bitterness.

“My brother is good isn’t he? Always a hit.”

Credence was nodding again, and Newt grinned with a hint of a wink,

“Don’t worry, I promise I’m better.”

The hand left his face, and he could hear the man undoing his pants, before putting a hand to his chest and making him lie back.

He might have landed his head against the wood a bit harder than he meant to, but the pain helped him focus, and diverted his attention all at once, as Newt thrust himself inside, using the minimal help of his own brother’s come to make it easier.

The man’s hands weren’t just on his thighs now, they were lifting his legs, putting his ankles on the man’s shoulders, so that he could achieve a deeper angle, and Credence wanted to die.

He decided.

The pain wasn’t even the only thing anymore, it was simply the use. Being treated as a doll, a puppet, and he couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop seeing where Newt was moving in and out of him, hearing the way his breath caught, and seeing how good it was making him feel.

They all liked it.

They _all_ liked hurting him.

Credence couldn’t understand. He thought he was supposed to be a weapon, a tool to help them win, whoever they were fighting, but instead he was another sort of tool.

An object.

The buzzing of his own arousal under his skin didn’t even do anything for him now; it was just another thing to overcome, to wait to be over.

Newt groaned and Credence hadn’t even noticed when he’d stopped, when he’d pulled back and jerked himself off onto his chest.

He was almost completely covered now, and the cold was starting to get to him, being covered in slowly cooling and drying come from various men was…

“Credence. Stand up.”

The man was telling him instead of just _making_ him, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it just to prove a point?

He faced the table, the remaining man, just Mister Graves. With Gellert at his back, he felt the hand tight and angry on his shoulder again, digging into his skin hard enough to leave bruises, but he couldn’t react, couldn’t move away or flinch.

“See how beautiful he is? Tell him. Graves, come on. Give the boy a bit of praise, for being such a good slut.”

“You’re beautiful Credence, truly.”

Credence saw the way Mister Graves’ jaw was locked, and it was as if every word caused him pain.

At least he could understand.

Gellert flipped him around and almost threw him down onto the table, making stars explode in front of his eyes.

“Now, it’s my turn.”

Everything he’d ever done the night before could have been called a kindness compared to now, as the man made him chase after his cock, he wouldn’t even push into Credence, he was forcing him to beg, to plead, to writhe against him, and the tears weren’t even for show as he told the man to fuck him.

“What’s that?”

“P-please Gellert, hurt me.”

The man smiled at him, and Credence knew that only the devil could look that way and still be called human.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Pain lanced through his body and he could smell blood as he felt the man finally moving, every thrust punctuated with a slap on his face or a rough grab of his thigh.

He didn’t know where he’d been cut until the man put a hand to his arm, and pulled it forward, placing his own hand to his cock, which was now so swollen it was almost purple, weeping a steady puddle of clear liquid on his stomach.

His wrist was splashed with scarlet.

“Not enough to really cause damage, just for the look.”

Gellert was saying, continuing to move, and Credence was staring at the drips of blood mingling on his skin with the streaks of the other men’s come.

“I wish I didn’t have to take you out. I want you to be naked all the time. Just so I can look at you. So everyone can know who you belong to.”

Gellert wasn’t looking at him now, he was staring down the table, at Mister Graves, Credence guessed.

“They’ve had their first and last taste of you, my boy.”

The man let out a low groan, and Credence felt a rush of warmth filling him.

He gave a full body shiver, and got a slap to the face for it.

“Look at that Graves. The curse is wearing thin. When you fuck him, maybe he’ll finally snap and black out.”

“You disg—”

“Ah, ah, now, careful. I did tell you that you would be last, but that’s not even the best part. He can’t come for anyone but you. Did you think I didn’t know? Did you think I’m a fool?”

Mister Graves was on his feet, Credence could hear the click of his boots on the floor.

“Never. But I also thought you had a bit of compassion for wizards at least. It appears I was wrong.”

“Oh don’t play the victim with me. Go on, get it over with. He’s starving for it. He needs a gentle touch, I know you’ll give it to him.”

“While you watch?”

“Of course. I’m not going to leave you _two_ alone.”

Mister Graves was now the one standing in front of him, looking down at him with such sadness it made Credence’s throat already raw throat ache.

He was disgusting, and unclean, unworthy of such pity.

“Credence… I’m so sorry.”

Mister Graves’ voice was a low rasp, and it was as if he was trying to make it so only Credence could hear.

“It’s okay. It’s you now.”

To his surprise, he was speaking freely, of his own volition.

Gellert would never have allowed him to say something like that.

A fresh wave of arousal washed over him, and his eyes fluttered shut, as he felt the man’s hand on his wrist, the tingling of healing magic working the cut closed.

“I want you to stop me. If you need to.”

Credence was already shaking his head, desperate for Mister Graves to touch him, to grant him his release, and the man simply sighed, before putting a hand to his neck, lifting him up slowly to bring their mouths together.

No one had kissed him directly on the lips, Gellert had only grazed over them had the other night, even through it all, it was as if he’d been allowed to keep one thing, one special thing just for Mister Graves, and that was it.

 “I’m going to make you come so you won’t feel it when I’m inside you.”

Mister Graves was murmuring, and Credence nodded fiercely,

“Please.”

“Shh-hh, I’m happy to do it.”

The hand that touched his cock was like a live wire on his skin, and his eyes snapped open as the potion finally allowed him to crest, and he was crying as he came, smears of white that reached almost up to his neck, and Mister Graves’ arm was holding him tight, not even caring that he was making a mess of his nice clothing.

“Love, lay back for me, okay?”

After a few moments the man’s words came through a haze of bliss, and Credence nodded, carefully doing as he asked, muscles still sore and limbs shaking.

He knew Gellert was there, watching, from somewhere in the room, but he didn’t care, all he could think about was Mister Graves, and he never looked away from the man as he undid his own pants, and stroked his cock a few times before moving in, teasing him with just the head of it, before pushing inside halfway, taking it slow as he dared.

“It’s okay. You won’t harm me.”

Because everyone else had.

Mister Graves lowered his head, and Credence thought maybe he saw his lips moving, perhaps in a strange prayer, before he started to move, and he saw the man’s body shuddering.

“Does it feel good?” He managed to gasp out.

“Yes Credence. Very.”

The tenderness and intimacy of _their_ moment wasn’t meant to last, and Mister Graves was groaning out his own orgasm far too soon, hands clinging to Credence’s waist in a manner which didn’t hurt enough to bruise but he wished would.

There was a slow round of applause from Gellert, and Credence flinched away, legs reluctantly loosening from around Mister Graves as he moved away, and waved a hand to clean himself as he made himself decent again.

“Very good.”

“Why would you do this?”

Mister Graves was asking, voice a hushed whisper, looking as wounded as Credence felt.

“Because, the boy isn’t the only one who needed to be broken, no, you did too. I know you love him. But you do not belong to each other. You belong to _me_. Never forget that. Or I’ll kill you slowly, and painfully, and make the boy watch.”

Credence shivered, and Gellert barely spared him a glance, flicking his wand at him, freeing him from the dip of his spine, from the curse, and the effects of the potion had long worn off.

“Go get cleaned up, and then go to bed. We have work to do tomorrow. We’re going to change the world, remember?”

Gellert’s smile wasn’t quite right, and Credence didn’t even reply.

He was too lost in what the man had said about Mister Graves.

He didn’t want to die anymore, but he _did_ want to kill the man who had dared threaten them both.

The entire time his power had been under his skin, just barely licking the surface, but even in the moment it should have been easiest to access it, he couldn’t, not if it meant harming Mister Graves.

He would never do that.

He couldn’t say if he’d be in control again the next time Grindelwald got close enough to touch him.

*

 

 

 

 


	2. Outtake: After Percival Graves Joins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bonus scene because who doesn't want sub-y graves? idk no one asked but here it is.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Ah, what’s my name?”

“Master.”

Grindelwald smirked down at him, a hand curling over his jaw and fingers grazing his neck,

“Good boy.”

Percival would never have thought he’d be subservient to anyone, but that was before he met Gellert, and discovered that there was a better way to fight the inequality of wizardkind in America.

Together they were going to change the world, and all he had to do was swear loyalty to the man before him, an easy enough feat.

Apparently that meant outside and _inside_ the bedroom.

“Open your mouth; show me how well you can please your master.”

Percival tried to think of things like the cause, things that would improve and that _he_ would improve, as he let the man press his cock inside of his mouth, so deep he almost choked, but for his perfect composure, he wouldn’t break or give any sign of weakness.

He couldn’t afford it.

Grindelwald petted his face and hair, until he felt on the verge of tears, as the man finally pulled back, and stroked his own hand over his cock, hot ropes of come painting Percival’s face and neck.

“Perfect. You never made a sound. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“For that, you will be rewarded. Go lay down over there.”

Percival wasn’t sure what he was leading up to, but he did as the man told him, and when Grindelwald followed, snapping his fingers to vanish the rest of their clothing, before he loomed over him, and captured his lips in a harsh and biting kiss.

He didn’t seem to notice how he was further making a mess of himself and Percival, but when a hand met his cock all protests and questions went out the window. He hadn’t even noticed how hard he’d gotten even on his knees for the man.

“I’m going to fuck you, but you can’t come until I say, do you understand?”

“Yes Master.”

Grindelwald smirked again,

“Excellent.”

Another wave of his hand and Percival felt slickness cooling on his cock, and before he could question it, the man was sinking down onto it, the hot and tight grip threatening to unman him, and break him.

He bit his tongue until it bled to keep from begging, but he could see something in the man’s eyes that told him he might have to anyway.

“Do you want to come Percy?”

He didn’t know if he should nod or shake his head, so instead, he leaned up for a kiss, and Grindelwald granted it, before nipping at his bottom lip and drawing blood.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“Yes Master. Please, let me come.”

“Oh Percy, you’re pretty when you beg. Very well. You may.”

Percival swore sparks flashed in his eyes, and the man lifted up off of him just before he crashed over the edge, only to touch him with such a firm grip it set him off almost immediately.

He barely noticed the state he was in, now covered in his own spend and most of Grindelwald’s. The man was standing at the end of the bed, dressing with magic and staring over at him, and he felt tempted to try and cover up, to summon his wand and clean himself.

“First thing tomorrow I want a report on Picquery’s activities. Every single thing. If she’s ordered a coffee, I want to know how strong it is. Do you understand?”

Percival nodded.

“Of course.”

The man cocked a brow at him, and Percival coughed,

“Gellert, yes.”

“Good. Graves, I know you won’t fail me.”

A smile that almost looked fond quirked the man’s lips, before he was walking away, disapparating with a crack.

Percival tried to draw a breath, but it was like he’d lost the use of half of a lung, it was infinitely more difficult, and he wondered if it was because of the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, and the potential for all the good he could accomplish now, that _they_ could, and he decided it was worth it, no matter the cost.


End file.
